by John Galt
"'Mr M'Lucre, what will you take to shut your eyes for an hour?'
"'I'll no take a hundred pounds,' was my answer.
"'I'll make it guineas,' quoth he.
"Surely, thought I, my eyne maun be worth pearls and diamonds to the EastIndia Company; so I answered and said--
"'Captain, no to argol-bargol about the matter,' (for a' the time, Ithought upon how I had not been sworn in;)--'what will ye gie me, if Itake away my eyne out of the vessel?'
"'A thousand pounds,' cried he.
"'A bargain be't,' said I. I think, however, had I stood out I might haegot mair. But it doesna rain thousands of pounds every day; so, to makea long tale short, I got a note of hand on the Bank of England for thesum, and, packing up my ends and my awls, left the ship.
"It was my intent to have come immediately home to Scotland; but the sameafternoon, I was summoned by the Board at the Custom-house for desertingmy post; and the moment I went before them, they opened upon me like mylord's pack of hounds, and said they would send me to Newgate. 'Cry a'at ance,' quoth I; 'but I'll no gang.' I then told them how I was nasworn, and under no obligation to serve or obey them mair than pleasuredmysel'; which set them a' again a barking worse than before; whereupon,seeing no likelihood of an end to their stramash, I turned mysel' round,and, taking the door on my back, left them, and the same night came offon the Fly to Edinburgh. Since syne they have been trying every grip andwile o' the law to punish me as they threatened; but the laws of Englandare a great protection to the people against arbitrary power; and theletter that I have got to-day frae the nabob, tells me that thecommissioners hae abandoned the plea."
Such was the account and narration that the bailie gave to me of theparticulars o' his journey to London; and when he was done, I could notbut make a moral reflection or two, on the policy of gentlemen puttingthemselves on the leet to be members of Parliament; it being a clear andplain thing, that as they are sent up to London for the benefit of thepeople by whom they are chosen, the people should always take care to getsome of that benefit in hand paid down, otherwise they run a great riskof seeing their representatives neglecting their special interests, andtreating them as entitled to no particular consideration.
CHAPTER VIII--ON THE CHOOSING OF A MINISTER
The next great handling that we had in the council after the generalelection, was anent the choice of a minister for the parish. The Rev. DrSwapkirk having had an apoplexy, the magistrates were obligated to get MrPittle to be his helper. Whether it was that, by our being used to MrPittle, we had ceased to have a right respect for his parts and talents,or that in reality he was but a weak brother, I cannot in conscience takeit on me to say; but the certainty is, that when the Doctor departed thislife, there was hardly one of the hearers who thought Mr Pittle wouldever be their placed minister, and it was as far at first from theunanimous mind of the magistrates, who are the patrons of the parish, asany thing could well be, for he was a man of no smeddum in discourse. Inverity, as Mrs Pawkie, my wife, said, his sermons in the warm summerafternoons were just a perfect hushabaa, that no mortal could hearken towithout sleeping. Moreover, he had a sorning way with him, that thegenteeler sort could na abide, for he was for ever going from house tohouse about tea-time, to save his ain canister. As for the young ladies,they could na endure him at all, for he had aye the sough and sound oflove in his mouth, and a round-about ceremonial of joking concerning thesame, that was just a fasherie to them to hear. The commonality,however, were his greatest adversaries; for he was, notwithstanding thespareness of his abilities, a prideful creature, taking no interest intheir hamely affairs, and seldom visiting the aged or the sick amongthem. Shortly, however, before the death of the doctor, Mr Pittle hadbeen very attentive to my wife's full cousin, Miss Lizy Pinkie, I'll nosay on account of the legacy of seven hundred pounds left her by an unclethat made his money in foreign parts, and died at Portsmouth of the livercomplaint, when he was coming home to enjoy himself; and Mrs Pawkie toldme, that as soon as Mr Pittle could get a kirk, I needna be surprised ifI heard o' a marriage between him and Miss Lizy.
Had I been a sordid and interested man, this news could never have givenme the satisfaction it did, for Miss Lizy was very fond of my bairns, andit was thought that Peter would have been her heir; but so far from beingconcerned at what I heard, I rejoiced thereat, and resolved in secretthought, whenever a vacancy happened, Dr Swapkirk being then fast wearingaway, to exert the best of my ability to get the kirk for Mr Pittle, not,however, unless he was previously married to Miss Lizy; for, to speakout, she was beginning to stand in need of a protector, and both me andMrs Pawkie had our fears that she might outlive her income, and in herold age become a cess upon us. And it couldna be said that this was anygroundless fear; for Miss Lizy, living a lonely maiden life by herself,with only a bit lassie to run her errands, and no being naturally of anactive or eydent turn, aften wearied, and to keep up her spirits gaed maybe, now and then, oftener to the gardevin than was just necessar, bywhich, as we thought, she had a tavert look. Howsever, as Mr Pittle hadtaken a notion of her, and she pleased his fancy, it was far from ourhand to misliken one that was sib to us; on the contrary, it was a dutylaid on me by the ties of blood and relationship, to do all in my powerto further their mutual affection into matrimonial fruition; and what Idid towards that end, is the burden of this current chapter.
Dr Swapkirk, in whom the spark of life was long fading, closed his eyes,and it went utterly out, as to this world, on a Saturday night, betweenthe hours of eleven and twelve. We had that afternoon got an inklingthat he was drawing near to his end. At the latest, Mrs Pawkie herselfwent over to the manse, and stayed till she saw him die. "It was apleasant end," she said, for he was a godly, patient man; and we wereboth sorely grieved, though it was a thing for which we had been longprepared; and indeed, to his family and connexions, except for the lossof the stipend, it was a very gentle dispensation, for he had been long aheavy handful, having been for years but, as it were, a breathing lump ofmortality, groosy, and oozy, and doozy, his faculties being shut up andlocked in by a dumb palsy.
Having had this early intimation of the doctor's removal to a betterworld, on the Sabbath morning when I went to join the magistrates in thecouncil-chamber, as the usage is to go to the laft, with thetown-officers carrying their halberts before us, according to the ancientcustom of all royal burghs, my mind was in a degree prepared to speak tothem anent the successor. Little, however, passed at that time, and itso happened that, by some wonder of inspiration, (there were, however,folk that said it was taken out of a book of sermons, by one Barrow anEnglish Divine,) Mr Pittle that forenoon preached a discourse that madean impression, in so much, that on our way back to the council-chamber Isaid to Provost Vintner, that then was--
"Really Mr Pittle seems, if he would exert himself, to have a nerve. Icould not have thought it was in the power of his capacity to have givenus such a sermon."
The provost thought as I did, so I replied--"We canna, I think, do betterthan keep him among us. It would, indeed, provost, no be doing justiceto the young man to pass another over his head."
I could see that the provost wasna quite sure of what I had been saying;for he replied, that it was a matter that needed consideration.
When we separated at the council-chamber, I threw myself in the way ofBailie Weezle, and walked home with him, our talk being on the subject ofvacancy; and I rehearsed to him what had passed between me and theprovost, saying, that the provost had made no objection to prefer MrPittle, which was the truth.
Bailie Weezle was a man no overladen with worldly wisdom, and had beenchosen into the council principally on account of being easily managed.In his business, he was originally by trade a baker in Glasgow, where hemade a little money, and came to settle among us with his wife, who was anative of the town, and had her relations here. Being therefore an idleman, living on his money, and of a soft and quiet nature, he was for thereason aforesaid chosen into the council, where he always
voted on theprovost's side; for in controverted questions every one is beholden totake a part, and he thought it was his duty to side with the chiefmagistrate.
Having convinced the bailie that Mr Pittle had already, as it were, asort of infeoffment in the kirk, I called in the evening on my oldpredecessor in the guildry, Bailie M'Lucre, who was not a hand to be soeasily dealt with; but I knew his inclinations, and therefore I resolvedto go roundly to work with him. So I asked him out to take a walk, and Iled him towards the town-moor, conversing loosely about one thing andanother, and touching softly here and there on the vacancy.
When we were well on into the middle of the moor, I stopped, and, lookinground me, said, "Bailie, surely it's a great neglec of the magistratesand council to let this braw broad piece of land, so near the town, liein a state o' nature, and giving pasturage to only twa-three of the poorfolk's cows. I wonder you, that's now a rich man, and with eyne worthpearls and diamonds, that ye dinna think of asking a tack of this land;ye might make a great thing o't."
The fish nibbled, and told me that he had for some time entertained athought on the subject; but he was afraid that I would be overlyextortionate.
"I wonder to hear you, bailie," said I; "I trust and hope no one willever find me out of the way of justice; and to convince you that I can doa friendly turn, I'll no objec to gie you a' my influence free gratis, ifye'll gie Mr Pittle a lift into the kirk; for, to be plain with you, theworthy young man, who, as ye heard to-day, is no without an ability, haslong been fond of Mrs Pawkie's cousin, Miss Lizy Pinky; and I would faindo all that lies in my power to help on the match."
The bailie was well pleased with my frankness, and before returning homewe came to a satisfactory understanding; so that the next thing I had todo, was to see Mr Pittle himself on the subject. Accordingly, in thegloaming, I went over to where he stayed: it was with Miss JennyKillfuddy, an elderly maiden lady, whose father was the minister ofBraehill, and the same that is spoken of in the chronicle of Dalmailing,as having had his eye almost put out by a clash of glaur, at the stormyplacing of Mr Balwhidder.
"Mr Pittle," said I, as soon as I was in and the door closed. "I'm cometo you as a friend; both Mrs Pawkie and me have long discerned that yehave had a look more than common towards our friend, Miss Lizy, and wethink it our duty to enquire your intents, before matters gang to greaterlength."
He looked a little dumfoundered at this salutation, and was at a loss foran answer, so I continued--
"If your designs be honourable, and no doubt they are, now's your time;strike while the iron's hot. By the death of the doctor, the kirk'svacant, the town-council have the patronage; and, if ye marry Miss Lizy,my interest and influence shall not be slack in helping you into thepoopit." In short, out of what passed that night, on the Mondayfollowing Mr Pittle and Miss Lizy were married; and by my dexterity,together with the able help I had in Bailie M'Lucre, he was in due seasonplaced and settled in the parish; and the next year more than fifty acresof the town-moor were inclosed on a nine hundred and ninety-nine years'tack at an easy rate between me and the bailie, he paying the half of theexpense of the ditching and rooting out of the whins; and it wasacknowledged by every one that saw it, that there had not been a greaterimprovement for many years in all the country side. But to the bestactions there will be adverse and discontented spirits; and, on thisoccasion, there were not wanting persons naturally of a disloyalopposition temper, who complained of the inclosure as a usurpation of therights and property of the poorer burghers. Such revilings, however, arewhat all persons in authority must suffer; and they had only the effectof making me button my coat, and look out the crooser to the blast.
CHAPTER IX--AN EXECUTION
The attainment of honours and dignities is not enjoyed without a portionof trouble and care, which, like a shadow, follows all temporalities. Onthe very evening of the same day that I was first chosen to be a bailie,a sore affair came to light, in the discovery that Jean Gaisling hadmurdered her bastard bairn. She was the daughter of a donsie mother,that could gie no name to her gets, of which she had two laddies, besidesJean. The one of them had gone off with the soldiers some time before;the other, a douce well-behaved callan, was in my lord's servitude, as astable boy at the castle. Jeanie herself was the bonniest lassie in thewhole town, but light-headed, and fonder of outgait and blether in thecausey than was discreet of one of her uncertain parentage. She was, atthe time when she met with her misfortune, in the service of MrsDalrymple, a colonel's widow, that came out of the army and settled amongus on her jointure.
This Mrs Dalrymple, having been long used to the loose morals of campsand regiments, did not keep that strict hand over poor Jeanie, and herother serving lass, that she ought to have done, and so the poorguileless creature fell into the snare of some of the ne'er-do-weelgentlemen that used to play cards at night with Mrs Dalrymple. Thetruths of the story were never well known, nor who was the father, forthe tragical issue barred all enquiry; but it came out that poor Jeaniewas left to herself, and, being instigated by the Enemy, after she hadbeen delivered, did, while the midwife's back was turned, strangle thebaby with a napkin. She was discovered in the very fact, with the bairnblack in the face in the bed beside her.
The heinousness of the crime can by no possibility be lessened; but thebeauty of the mother, her tender years, and her light-headedness, had wonmany favourers; and there was a great leaning in the hearts of all thetown to compassionate her, especially when they thought of the illexample that had been set to her in the walk and conversation of hermother. It was not, however, within the power of the magistrates tooverlook the accusation; so we were obligated to cause a precognition tobe taken, and the search left no doubt of the wilfulness of the murder.Jeanie was in consequence removed to the tolbooth, where she lay till thelords were coming to Ayr, when she was sent thither to stand her trialbefore them; but, from the hour she did the deed, she never spoke.
Her trial was a short procedure, and she was cast to be hanged--and notonly to be hanged, but ordered to be executed in our town, and her bodygiven to the doctors to make an atomy. The execution of Jeanie was whatall expected would happen; but when the news reached the town of theother parts of the sentence, the wail was as the sough of a pestilence,and fain would the council have got it dispensed with. But the LordAdvocate was just wud at the crime, both because there had been noprevious concealment, so as to have been an extenuation for the shame ofthe birth, and because Jeanie would neither divulge the name of thefather, nor make answer to all the interrogatories that were put toher--standing at the bar like a dumbie, and looking round her, and at thejudges, like a demented creature, and beautiful as a Flanders' baby. Itwas thought by many, that her advocate might have made great use of hervisible consternation, and pled that she was by herself; for in truth shehad every appearance of being so. He was, however, a dure man, no doubtwell enough versed in the particulars and punctualities of the law for anordinary plea; but no of the right sort of knowledge and talent to takeup the case of a forlorn lassie, misled by ill example and a winsomenature, and clothed in the allurement of loveliness, as the judge himselfsaid to the jury.
On the night before the day of execution, she was brought over in achaise from Ayr between two town-officers, and placed again in our hands,and still she never spoke.
Nothing could exceed the compassion that every one had for poor Jeanie,so she wasna committed to a common cell, but laid in the council-room,where the ladies of the town made up a comfortable bed for her, and someof them sat up all night and prayed for her; but her thoughts were gone,and she sat silent.
In the morning, by break of day, her wanton mother, that had beentrolloping in Glasgow, came to the tolbooth door, and made a dreadfulwally-waeing, and the ladies were obligated, for the sake of peace, tobid her be let in. But Jeanie noticed her not, still sitting with hereyes cast down, waiting the coming on of the hour of her doom. Thewicked mother first tried to rouse her by weeping and distraction, andthen she took to upbraiding;
but Jeanie seemed to heed her not, save onlyonce, and then she but looked at the misleart tinkler, and shook herhead. I happened to come into the room at this time, and seeing all thecharitable ladies weeping around, and the randy mother talking to thepoor lassie as loudly and vehement as if she had been both deaf andsullen, I commanded the officers, with a voice of authority, to removethe mother, by which we had for a season peace, till the hour came.
There had not been an execution in the town in the memory of the oldestperson then living; the last that suffered was one of the martyrs in thetime of the persecution, so that we were not skilled in the business, andhad besides no hangman, but were necessitated to borrow the Ayr one.Indeed, I being the youngest bailie, was in terror that the obligationmight have fallen to me.
A scaffold was erected at the Tron, just under the tolbooth windows, byThomas Gimblet, the master-of-work, who had a good penny of profit by thejob, for he contracted with the town-council, and had the boards afterthe business was done to the bargain; but Thomas was then deacon of thewrights, and himself a member of our body.